


this is what i've done (you will be safe with me)

by cqstiel (dcnovan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcnovan/pseuds/cqstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>maybe this is all they've ever wanted, and everything they could never have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is what i've done (you will be safe with me)

**Author's Note:**

> this is complete self-indulgent fluff trash, it's awful and un-beta'd, sorry sorry. eurgh. also it's rlly cliche and i don't agree w half the things i said in here but HEY WHATEVER HASHTAG YOLO RIGHT????

this is what i’ve done (you will be safe with me)

<< >>

and maybe this is all he’s ever wanted.

maybe the blue-eyed enigma that pressed its palm onto his shoulder is something like an answer. maybe --- maybe, this mystery that somehow wrapped itself into a suit and coat and stayed there, maybe it’s here for a reason. because it doesn’t smile often, but when it does, it’s like everything dean’s ever seen and felt is melted down into elixir, and he wants to see that smile when he dies, when he weeps, when it’s three in the morning and the overwhelming need for warmth gets too much.

maybe, cas is all he ever wanted, all he ever needed. a symbol of what dean will never have.

<< >>

one day, cas falls asleep - well, into a deep state of meditation, or whatever the fuck angels call it these days - on the couch, and he’s so human that dean thinks maybe he could touch him. dean wonders whether cas’s skin would be cold when dean runs a hand up his arm. he wonders why little puffs of air still escape his lips when cas has no need for lungs, or air, or a hand to hold when nobody can see. he wonders why cas looks so touchable when he towers over dean in every way - in strength, in love, in perfection. he wonders whether cas would wake up if dean told him his secrets.

he wonders whether cas would listen to them.

<< >>

 _angels_ , dean reads, _are the most perfect beings in all of creation. they are warriors of God, devoted to serving Him and only Him. they feel no anger, no joy, no sadness --_

and dean stops there, because he remembers cas pushing him against the alley wall and hissing in his face. he remembers cas watching a bluebird’s first flight. he remembers cas walking into the water with arms outstretched, and his stupid coat floating to the surface, like a stark reminder that this was what dean had done.

but cas has wings, and probably a halo hidden somewhere like a secret dean whispered when cas flew away. and he feels as well, and he is not the most perfect being in all of creation.

<< >>

sometimes, when the light hits him just right, dean can see the shimmer of cas’s wings. nobody would notice unless they were looking for it, unless they were dean, who catalogued every shade of ethereal blue that belonged to cas, not jimmy.

dean had never done this before, never loved anyone like this - except sam, but that was never going to end any differently. (sam would always hold the dubious title of dean’s reason to live). he’d never loved someone with his whole being, with everything he had, and from such a far distance, like they were thousands of miles apart in the same room. he’d never felt the dull ache of a love unrequited; he’d never tasted the bittersweetness of a smile he didn’t cause.

he can’t help it, really. he loves from a distance now; he’s in love with a thunderstorm - something powerful, and dangerous, and beautiful. and he watches the lightning, and finds it breathtaking, but stays inside because he might get burned.

<< >>  
<< >>   
<< >>

and maybe this is all he’s ever wanted.

maybe the silver-bright soul that he held tight is something like an answer. maybe -- maybe the fire that somehow wrapped itself in dark green eyes and stayed there, maybe it’s his for a reason. because it doesn’t reach for him often, but when it does, it’s like everything castiel’s ever lost and found is pressed into a human and handed straight to him, and he wants to hold that man when he dies, when he weeps, when it’s dark outside and he feels empty and doesn’t know why.

maybe, dean winchester is all castiel ever wanted, all he ever needed. a symbol of what he’ll never have.

<< >>

dean falls asleep in his chair by the fire one night, and he’s so bright that castiel thinks that his Grace can feel him.

castiel wonders whether dean would ever run his hands up the angel’s arms. he wonders whether dean sees him breathing because it makes him feel more human. he wonders why dean looks so untouchable, so sacred, when he’s rooted in the belief that he is below castiel - in strength, in love, in perfection. he wonders whether dean would whisper secrets when he thought cas was asleep.

he wonders if dean would let him listen to them.

<< >>

 _humans_ , his siblings say, _are the most flawed beings in all of creation. Father says that that is what makes them special, but they are weak from pain, happiness, loss --_

castiel doesn’t listen to them, because he remembers dean’s resolve when sam was lost. he remembers the way dean looks at his brother and smiles, vows strength for his younger sibling. he remembers dean’s tears when he held sam on the wet, cold ground, and how he wouldn’t be here today if that had never happened.

but dean has a heart, and needs to breathe, and has so many cracks to fill that castiel doesn’t know where to start. yes, dean is flawed, castiel knows that, but he is not the most flawed being in all of creation.

<< >>

sometimes, when dean isn’t paying too much attention, castiel reaches for his soul.

dean doesn’t notice it, not really - it’s those little subconscious shivers that dean gives when castiel counts the greens in his eyes.

castiel had never loved before. he’d been devoted - to his Father, to his brothers and sisters - but he’d never wanted to hold someone together like he did dean. he’d never wanted to protect someone, to hold them close and shield them from the ways of heaven and earth and hell like he did one human. he’d always admired humankind - and now he realised the things they felt regularly. he wondered if a woman felt the same rush of affection when her husband poured her coffee, if a teenage girl fell in love a little bit more whenever her best friend smiled.

he can’t help it, really. he loves from heaven to the darkest bedroom at night, where a man hums hey, jude when he can’t sleep. he’s in love with a volcano - something powerful, and dangerous, and beautiful hidden inside rocky armor. he watches the lava pool out, and finds it breathtaking, but stays inside because he wants to be human, and humans will get burned.

<< >> 

<< >> 

<< >>


End file.
